


Can you play me a memory?

by Heavy Henry (HeavyHenry)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, First Dates, Fluff, Food, Hank can have little a fluff, Happy Ending, I Tried, Inspired by Music, Lonely Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Midwest AU, Pianist Victor Nikiforov, Short One Shot, as a treat, data engineer katsuki yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavyHenry/pseuds/Heavy%20Henry
Summary: A friendly group of co-worker drags Yuuri out to celebrate the end of his first week at a new job.A short little ditty inspired by a recent trip to the old-school steakhouse/piano bar.  If you're ever in Peoria, check out Klusendorf's Sky Harbor.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	Can you play me a memory?

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see if I could write something purely fluffy. Here's the result.

“New guy!” 

“Phichit, I know you know my name.” Yuuri glanced over his monitor before returning to the benefits enrollment form. He had known, as soon as HR emailed it to him, that he would regret procrastinating on his intake paperwork, but he had put it off anyway. Now, here it was, 5:30 on Friday, and he had yet to choose between the HMO and PPO options. He still wasn’t entirely sure what either of those things meant. 

“I know you know I know your name.” 

“What does that even mean?” Yuuri closed his eyes and clicked on PPO. Phichit was still leaning over the cubicle wall. 

“It means that you should come to dinner, like, to welcome you to the team.” He grinned at Yuuri’s raised eyebrow. “There’s a group of us that goes out most Fridays.” 

“I don’t know, Phichit, I’m not really a going-out-with-the-team kind of guy.” Yuuri had actually been planning to pick up takeout from the Chinese restaurant near his new apartment complex and spending the night on his couch, eating cumin lamb, watching the rest of Bojack Horseman, and steadfastly ignoring all of the unpacking he still had to do. 

“Come on, Yuuri, you haven’t met anyone outside of the department yet…” 

“That’s not true. I met Anita in HR and, um, Frank, I think, in security.” 

“I bet you also haven’t seen any of our glorious Midwestern paradise!” 

“Sure I have. I took a walk on my lunch break today.” 

“Yuuuuurriii…” 

He sighed and looked up at Phichit. He weighed the prospect of looking like a jerk, of being ungrateful to a co-worker who had been nothing but friendly and helpful during his first week at a new job against the allure of a night alone. The guilt tipped the scale. Yuuri had the whole weekend ahead, he could afford to socialize for one night. “Okay.” 

Phichit lit up. “Great! Let me just text some folks, see where we want to go.” He unholstered his phone, thumbs already flying across the screen. 

  
~  


Despite what he had told Phichit, Yuuri truly hadn’t done much exploration beyond the area right around his apartment complex and the corporate headquarters of Badger Inc. He followed Phichit’s orange Crosstrek up the bluff and out of downtown. Hospitals and office buildings gave way to a run-down commercial district, then to the university neighborhood of cheap student eateries, old homes, and the construction projects of a university with plenty of wealthy alumni. 

Past Chadwick University, a sweeping turn led them sharply downhill. A park opened up, late-summer green and gold on his right. Phichit took the next turn, pulling into the lot of a low brick building right across from the park’s entrance. It was clearly an old-school sort of place, a vintage sign out front proclaimed “Plisetsky’s Cloud Harbor: Steaks and Seafood, Casual Dining, Cozy Gaming, Piano Bar,” beneath an illustration of a biplane in flight. 

“Cool, right?” Phichit asked, stretching as he climbed from his car. 

“Piano bar?” Yuuri wasn’t usually a fan of live music in restaurants. It was always too loud and never very good. “That’s not every night, right?” 

“Just Friday and Saturday, I think.” 

Yuuri grimaced. 

Phichit just laughed, “You act like I can’t hear your Patsy Cline through your headphones. You’ll love it, trust me.” He broke off to wave at a car that pulled into a nearby spot. “Come on, let’s get you introduced.” 

A guy with the floppy brown hair of a 90s teen heartthrob put out his hand, “Sara’s working late tonight. She says she’ll definitely come next time.” He shook Yuuri’s hand, “I’m Leo. Phichit’s been talking up his cool new neighbor in the group chat.” 

“I’m Yuuri. It’s nice to meet you.” He gave Phichit a look, which was ignored. 

The other man, a young looking guy with a lot of freckles waved from the other side of the car. “I’m Guang Hong, from Metallurgy.” 

“Hey.” 

“Come on, guys, steak awaits. Hey, that rhymes!” Phichit ushered the group through the door. 

The Hostess station was behind a pair of low saloon doors, which made it a little awkward to talk to the hostess while staying out of the way of early diners already on their way out. The average customer age seemed to be around 65, and that was with Phichit’s small band of relative youngsters dragging the number down. The hostess was a slight woman at least 50 years his senior, with thick dark-rimmed glasses and bright red lipstick. She greeted Phichit like an old friend and led them to a table. 

It took Yuuri a beat for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Not only were the signs out front vintage, but the whole place clearly had not changed its decor at all since approximately 1973. Stone walls gave the place a warm cave-like vibe which was only enhanced by the grove of red-glass shaded hobnail chandeliers that were the primary source of light. Their group was seated at a semi-circular booth upholstered in bright blue naugahyde. 

Leo sighed as he slid into the spot next to Guang Hong. “Oh man, I have been looking forward to this all week.” He took the drink menu from their server, and ordered an Amber Bock before passing it around. “Friday, I mean. It’s been a total clusterfuck over in Marketing.” 

“No one understands exactly what Leo does.” Phichit stage-whispered to Yuuri. “I’ll have a Stella, please.” 

“Uh, the same for me,” Yuuri told the server, a cheery redhead around their age. 

Leo rolled his eyes and relaxed into the booth. “That’s the pot calling the kettle indecipherable. Yuuri,” he complained, “please tell me that you can translate nerd into normal speech. Half the time, he says things about work and I don’t even know if it’s real words or he’s just making something up. What’s the language you’re learning now? Haboob?” 

“Hadoop. It’s not a language, and I already know it. I’m going to the hackfest next month.” 

“What the fuck is a hackfest? Dude, you’re not helping your case.” 

“Are they always like this?” Yuuri whispered to Guang Hong. 

The young man nodded, “They’re actually behaving themselves tonight. Usually they start arguing about statistical models. So, you wanna hear about the crystallographic analysis of the new casting method we’re trying?” 

“Um, sure?” 

Guang Hong laughed, “Don’t worry, ‘m not like these jokers. I don’t like talking about work. What do you do when you aren’t doing, well, I have no idea what you guys do, you know?” 

Yuuri relaxed at that. Phichit and Leo’s argument had wound down and they settled in to the serious business of selecting an appetizer. 

  
~  


After eating more than his fair share of fried mushrooms and starting on his second beer, Yuuri was feeling warm and relaxed and ready for his pork filet. He leaned back in his seat, content to let the conversation flow around him. The ceiling was painted black, sprayed with glitter that glinted in the colored lights of beer signs behind the bar. A few gentle chords floated over from the corner and were greeted by a smattering of applause. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Yuuri couldn’t see the pianist from where he sat, just the back of a head, hair glinting silver in the light. Just another night at the geriatric piano bar, he supposed. “How are you doing tonight?” The pianist chuckled at a comment from someone at one of the nearby tables, continuing his aimless noodling, “Yes, well, that’s why they have to pay us to do it, isn’t it?” The voice didn’t quite match Yuuri’s mental picture of a man who played piano in a steakhouse full of octogenarians but he couldn’t have said what his mental picture _was_. “Well, then,” the chords became a bit more intentional, “shall we?” He stretches out the introduction beneath his words. “I should say, I’ve set up a Soundcloud, so if you enjoy what you’ve heard tonight, just follow the link on your receipt.” A song emerges that’s familiar but Yuuri can’t place it. “We’re no strangers to love, you know the rules and so do I…” he sings in a gentle baritone. Phichit snorts beside him. 

“What?” 

Phichit shakes his head as the singer reaches the chorus, “Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…” Leo groans but Yuuri just bops his head absentmindedly, wondering how he’d never noticed that it was actually kind of a good song. The whole table sings along on the last chorus. 

“Thank you, I’m Viktor Nikiforov, and I don’t actually have a Soundcloud, just Cloud Harbor.” Someone whoops at the name of the restaurant. Yuuri can hear the smile in Viktor’s voice, “I’m here every Friday and Saturday, so come visit.” He plays a glistening run of notes up the keyboard then back down, moving into a different key. “Let’s try something a little different.” 

Their food arrived soon after and successfully held Yuuri’s attention for a while. Still, he found his attention drawn back to the pianist, and caught himself shifting in his spot, trying to see more than the top of his head. Phichit noticed, of _course_ Phichit noticed. “He’s good, right?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess.” Yuuri could feel his cheeks getting hot. “I mean, I don’t actually know anything about music…” 

Leo started to say something but Guang Hong piped up, “I don’t think you have to know anything about music to know whether you like something.” 

“Exactly,” Leo agreed, “you don’t have to justify liking something by citing it’s technical merits, you’re allowed to just like what you like, even if it’s bad.” He finished the last of his beer, “that said, Viktor’s actually really good. We stayed late one night and he stopped playing the radio-friendly stuff, started doing, like, cool stuff. Oh, he takes requests, too. He likes it if you can stump him.” 

“That’s cool.” It was cool. Yuuri had seen a handful of people approach the bar in front of the piano and toss a tip in the jar before chatting with Viktor. He’d just embarked on a surprisingly wistful arrangement of En Vogue’s “What a Man.” Yuuri rummaged through his pockets, coming up with a couple of crumpled bills. “Be right back.” 

He avoided Phichit’s eye as he slid from the booth and made his way over to the piano bar. Viktor finished the tune as Yuuri approached and was looking meditatively at the keys, fingering a couple of chords without playing. He obviously hadn’t noticed Yuuri yet, and Yuuri suddenly felt bad for disturbing him. He slipped his tip into the jar, planning to sneak back to his table when Viktor turned toward him. He was much younger than Yuuri had expected, at most a couple of years older than Yuuri, but perhaps that was just the warm lights of the bar, which were _very_ flattering, not that Viktor needed any help in that department. His face was almost unfairly attractive, all symmetry and good bones. He looked at Yuuri, lips stretched in a smile. A light from somewhere behind Yuuri caught his eyes, making them spark an improbably pale blue. 

“Did you have a request?” 

Yuuri managed to stammer, “no, no thank you,” before scurrying off to his table. 

Viktor’s face stayed in his mind, though, the shadows around his eyes that all the flattering lighting couldn’t quite hide, the unconvincing smile that had stretched his lips when he caught Yuuri watching, and the way it had immediately fled just before Yuuri turned to leave. 

  
~  


“What do we think, guys, did you save room for dessert?” 

The groan was near unanimous. “I think the just checks, please,” Phichit said, “Oh, and could you split his -” he pointed at Yuuri “-among the three of us?” 

Yuuri began to protest, but the server just gave him a wink and walked back to her station. 

“Guys -” 

“Don’t bother,” Leo commented, “they did it to me when I started, too. You’ll pay it back eventually.” He yawned hugely. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m beat.” 

The check were settled quickly and before he knew it, the four of them were standing in the parking lot again. The night had cooled, the first light brush of fall in the air. 

“Cool place, right?” Phichit asked. 

“Yeah.” Yuuri clicked his key fob and followed the amber lights toward their cars. “Well, see you Monday, I guess.” 

Phichit paused in opening his door for some finger guns. “Hell yeah,” he paused to stifle a yawn. “Drive safe.” 

Yuuri waved and walked to his car. Hand on the latch, he looked up to a sky that was more full of stars than anywhere else he’d lived in the last ten years. When he was in high school one of the windows in his bedroom opened out onto the roof. He and his friends would sit out there and talk for hours, looking at the stars. There was always a strange, calm energy to those talks that had made Yuuri think of magic. Those times were long gone, and Yuuri hadn’t been home in over a year, but this night had a little bit of that same flavor, the same sense of possibility. 

Yuuri went back inside. 

Yuuri had not thought this through. He had not thought about this at all, actually. It was awkward enough to explain to the hostess that, no, he hadn’t forgotten something, he was just coming back. It probably wasn’t even that big a deal, and he was almost definitely imagining the look that his erstwhile server gave him when he sat down at the bar. The bartender, though, was a friendly older man with a neat grey beard who amiably asked him how his week had been when he came to take Yuuri’s order, and offered no further commentary. The crowd had shifted a bit away from the venerable group that had filled the early dinner hour and had become much more demographically diverse. Yuuri started to relax.

Viktor, meanwhile, hadn’t noticed at all, too busy with the soulful climax of ‘Unchained Melody.’ Yuuri clapped with the rest of the crowd. “What next?” Viktor mused, speaking into the microphone. “Oh, I haven’t done ‘Squeeze Box,’ have I?” The redheaded server giggled. “Is Nikolai here? Nick? Nikolai? Paging Nick Plisetsky to the stage…”

The bartender sighed, full of long-suffering fondness, then disappeared as a few of the diners started to chant, “Nikolai, Nikolai…”

”Is he here? Can he hear me?” Viktor asked someone at a nearby table.

”He went to get his accordion,” called the red-head.

When the bartender emerged, accordion strapped to his chest, he was trailed by a sulky looking teen with a mop of blond hair and a banjo. They approached the piano to scattered applause. The kid played a lick on the banjo and Viktor brightened, mimicking it back “My squeeze box has arrived with bonus banjo.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” the kid said, playing back another more complex riff. 

Viktor replied in kind. “Okay, then, please welcome the man, the myth, the legend: Nick Plisetsky and his grandson Yuri!” 

Nick waved but Yuri ignored the crowd. “This shit’s in G, right?” He turned a peg and struck a string. Viktor nodded. “Nice.” 

It was fun, a genuine family affair, or at least Yuuri guessed they were all family, with the woman from the host station appearing halfway through the song with a washboard. Half the restaurant was singing along by the time they got to the chorus. 

When Nikolai returned to the bar, Yuuri ordered another old-fashioned, having already resigned himself to taking an Uber home. He stayed a long time, until the dinner crowd was mostly gone and Yuri took over for Nikolai at the bar. Viktor kept playing and Yuuri had stopped bothering to pretend that he wasn’t completely enthralled. 

“You know, you can sit at the bar over there, right?” The red headed server was back. “He likes it when people visit him.” Yuri snorted where he was drying a glass next to her. “What, I’m helping,” she protested. 

“Tch. Like I care where he sits.” He stretched to put the glass back on a shelf above the bar. Yuuri’s gaze was caught by an old Budweiser lamp, Clydesdales and wagon trotting endlessly around a glass globe. “But, yeah,” Yuuri looked over at the change in Yuri’s voice, “he’d probably like some company.” 

Yuuri ordered another drink and waited until Viktor finished ‘Famous Blue Raincoat’ before heading over. He felt a little self-conscious, sitting with his back to the rest of the room like that, but then Viktor turned to him and said, “Any requests?” 

“Um, what about some Joni Mitchell?” 

“Oh, I love Joni,” Viktor smiled, “Anything in particular?” 

“Not really, whatever you want.” 

Viktor thought for a moment, briefly taking his hands from the keyboard to touch an index finger to his lips. “Ah!” He played a couple of chords, then shook his head and changed keys. “I think that’s better, don’t you?” 

Yuuri recognized the intro right away. He nodded, then said, “Yeah, I like this one.” 

VIktor smiled, wide and sunny, not like the customer service smile that had slid from his lips so quickly earlier. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

“Yuuri Katsuki.” 

“Really? That’s my cousin’s name!” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were cousins. He’s good.” 

“Isn’t he?” Viktor turned his attention back to the music, leaving Yuuri feeling unreasonably guilty for distracting him. It was interesting sitting up there. He and Viktor chatted between songs, Viktor asking for opinions as if Yuuri knew anything about music. Patrons would come up every now and then to slide a tip into the jar, request a song, or just chat with Viktor. He laughed and joked with everyone and played every request. 

Yuri came back and accompanied Viktor on his banjo for a clawhammer version of ‘Fake Plastic Trees.” The crowd was thin and Yuuri was a little tipsy and a little tired when Viktor said, “thank you for coming out folks, it’s been a great evening. Don’t forget to tip your server, and come back next week.” 

“Last call!” bellowed Yuri from behind the bar. 

Yuuri watched as Viktor turned off the mic and stood. He had the sudden sense of an opportunity slipping away. He jumped off the bar stool, his inner ear protesting a bit at the sudden change of position. Viktor was methodically putting away his things, sipping from a bottle of water, clipping a pair of keys to one of his belt loops. He didn’t seem to notice Yuuri. 

“Hey, um, Viktor, can I buy you a drink?” 

Viktor looked up, face falling a bit. “I’m sorry, I’d better get going, I need to let my dog out.” He smiled, a little crookedly, “I stayed a little later than usual.” 

“Oh, right.” Yuuri winced, “I should probably get going, too.” Luckily, he’d already settled his tab, so there was nothing to stop him when Viktor nodded toward the door. 

Under the porte cochere, they paused. “It was nice to meet you, Yuuri. Have a great weekend.” He turned away then, away from the parking lot. 

“Wait, are you walking?” 

“Yes, I just live on the other side of the park.” 

“Do you want a ride?” 

Viktor gave him a look, “Thank you sweetie, but I don’t think you need to be driving, do you?” 

Yuuri could feel himself blushing furiously. “No, no, I was gonna get a Ryde, but we could share…” 

Viktor smiled a little. “Walking would be faster.” 

“Right, I’ll see you around, I guess.” 

“Actually…” Viktor looked a little uncertain, running a hand through his hair. “You could walk with me, if you wanted. I’m sure it would be just as easy to get a Ryde from my place.” 

“Oh, I, uh,” Yuuri stammered. 

“Sorry, that’s a bit too forward, isn’t it?” Viktor’s eyes glinting in the headlight of a passing car. “I’d just like to get to know you better.” 

“No, I, uh...that sounds nice.” 

“Good. Shall we?” 

  
~  


Viktor led the way across the street and into the park that Yuuri had noticed earlier. The stars shone as brightly as they had earlier, but the moon had risen, a slim crescent illuminating a faint circle of humidity around it. 

“This is a nice park,” Yuuri commented. 

“It is. There’s frisbee golf and a Japanese tea-house that’s full of graffiti. There’s a really big sycamore over that way.” He pointed down the creek. “If you come to piano night again, I’ll give you a list of all the best trees in Peoria.” 

Yuuri laughed. “I’d like that.” 

Viktor turned, following a road leading uphill. 

“You know, I didn’t expect Peoria to be so hilly.” 

“How long have you lived here?” 

“Just a little more than two weeks.” 

“Really? That’s amazing! What brings you here?” 

“Work,” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m an engineer at -” 

“Badger?” 

“I guess there are a lot of us, huh?” 

“Just a few,” Viktor teased. His hand brushed against Yuuri’s. Yuuri could almost hear them both catch their breath. “Sorry.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, I - it’s okay,” Viktor said. 

They walked in silence for a bit after that, the trees looming dark on each side of the road. 

Finally they reached the top of the hill where the park spread out around them again. An owl hooted nearby. A little way down the road, a large shape swooped in front of them and flapped away into the trees in eerie silence. 

“Wow,” Yuuri breathed, “did you see that?” He turned back to Viktor who was standing with his head cocked slightly, like he was listening. 

“The owl? I guess I missed it.” 

“Wow,” Yuuri said again. “I guess I’ve never seen one that close.” 

When they moved on, they walked a little closer and when their hands brushed, neither pulled away. “Is this okay?” Viktor asked, hooking one of his fingers around Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri thought of those long fingers floating over the piano keys. “Yes.” 

They left the road for a sidewalk that led past manicured flower beds and bronze statues of Chadwick University luminaries. Yuuri was a little surprised when Viktor led the way to a row of stately Victorians. 

“Well, this is me,” Viktor said, unlocking the door to one of the larger homes. As he opened the door, Yuuri could see a row of mailboxes and buzzers. “This is going to sound very forward, but would you like to come up for a bit? You could meet my dog.” 

Yuuri had never turned down the chance to meet a dog in his life. “I’d like that.” 

Viktor’s apartment was neat, almost spartan, with high ceilings and tall windows. His dog was a delight, jumping excitedly at Yuuri and licking his fingers when he tried to give her pats. When she finally settled down, laying on her back while Yuuri rubbed her belly, he looked up to see Viktor watching them with a soft smile. 

“I’d better take her out.” 

“Okay, I’ll get out of your hair, just let me call a ride.” Yuuri stood, not quite realizing how close they were. One his feet, Viktor’s face was _right there_ , eyes even brighter than Yuuri had thought. He reached out tentatively and brushed Viktor’s pale hair back. “Is this okay?” he asked, letting a knuckle brush over Viktor’s cheekbone. 

Viktor reached up, catching Yuuri’s hand and holding it in his own, his thumb pressed gently into the center of Yuuri’s palm. “It’s okay,” he said as he pulled Yuuri’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I usually have a cup of tea before bed. You could join me.” 

  
~  


Yuuri walked downstairs with Viktor and his dog. 

“What’s her name?” Yuuri asked, as she galumphed off into the yard. He turned away politely as she squatted to do her business. 

“Makkachin,” Viktor replied, pulling a plastic bag over his hand. “Or, Makka, mostly.” She looked up at him, hearing her name, then licked his face when he stooped to pick up her mess. 

“What a sweet girl.” 

“She’s the best girl in the whole world, aren’t you Makka?” She trotted over to visit Yuuri, not quite done with whatever smells he’d brought along with him. 

The three of them climbed the steps back to Viktor’s apartment. The building was old, and the steps creaked and flexed beneath their feet. 

The kitchen seemed very cozy as Viktor puttered around. “Caffeine or no?” 

“A little caffeine, please.” He had to stay awake at least long enough to get home. 

They sat on the couch while they waited for the water to boil, talking about everything and nothing: their hometowns, their families, their favorite books. Viktor loved audiobooks and was full of recommendations for the best narrators. Once the water boiled, they started talking about music, artists they had seen, what they were listening to now. Yuuri was pulling up songs on his phone while Viktor sat on the floor next to his turntable playing Jethro Tull and Wendy Carlos on the Moog. 

The conversation became strange and wandering as the night went on. Yuuri only realized that he’d dozed off when he was awoken by Viktor moving. “Sorry, my arm was asleep.” 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Yuuri sat up from where he’d apparently fallen asleep on Viktor’s shoulder. “I think I drooled on you.” 

“I have a dog, I’m used to it. Listen, Yuuri, I happen to know that this couch is very comfortable.” He looked away, a little shy. “I’m being forward again, but if you wanted, you could sleep here, just sleep, and I can walk you back to your car in the morning.” 

Yuuri wanted to protest, but was interrupted by an enormous yawn. 

“Wonderful! I’ll get you some blankets.” His smile was so wide and genuine that it made Yuuri’s heart hurt. 

“Let me help.” He followed Viktor to his bedroom and allowed his arms to be heaped with blankets and pillows. 

Back in the living room, VIktor insisted on helping make up the couch and fluff Yuuri’s pillows. With an exclamation, he disappeared into the bathroom and emerged with a folded towel and a packet of those little disposable toothbrushes. He passed them to Yuuri a little sheepishly. “These might be expired. I don’t often have overnight guests.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Yuuri said, taking the items and setting them on the couch behind him. 

Viktor blushed a little this time, his fair skin coloring down to the collar of his shirt. “You’d be surprised.” 

Yuuri tipped his head back to look more closely at Viktor. 

“This has been a really nice evening, and I’m glad I met you. It’s just… I’m not always an easy person to be with.” Viktor winced a little. “Not that you’re with me, we just met. It’s just that I don’t have the greatest luck with relationships.” 

“I feel like you’re breaking up with me before we’ve even gotten together.” 

Viktor snorted a little. “Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” 

“Let’s talk about it over breakfast. I’ve heard that One Planet place is good. That’s close, right?” 

“And they have a patio, so Makka can come.” Viktor took his hands. 

“Okay, it’s a date.” He pulled Viktor toward him and stood on his tiptoes, brushing a light kiss against Viktor’s lips. “Was that okay?” 

Viktor answered by pulling Yuuri into his arms. “That was perfect,” he confirmed, breath ruffling Yuuri’s hair. 

“That’s good.” Yuuri smiled, “let’s do it again sometime.”

”I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Viktor's set list:  
> [ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gErqy3WrA0JbBXUDyr0Mw](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gErqy3WrA0JbBXUDyr0Mw)


End file.
